Adapt to Survive
by R.J Harrow
Summary: Remy Dubois is going to miss his home in District 4. It's the 74th annual Hunger Games and his name is pulled during the reaping. The problem is Remy refuses to play nice with the Careers, only distancing his chances of surviving even further. So he depends on a piece of advice: adapt to survive. Loosely follows the plot of The Hunger Games.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

I was stretched out on the shoreline of the slow-moving stream. My fingers coursed through the slick mud. The sound of frogs and toads was music to my ears. Ripples flew across the water like birds in the sky. The sound of my friends' laughter was all around. This was the Marsh of District 4.

District 4 was considered a very clean and wealthy district. You knew you were high-class when you were part of labeled "Career Tributes". But our small portion of the district was detested by the country. Heck, even our own people disapproved of our lifestyle. We were called the Swamp People. Besides, who else in our district wrestled alligators in our free time? And I was damn sure proud of it.

A glob of mud flew on my face. My friend Percy laughed under his breath. I lifted off the ground and compressed a mixture of grasses and mud. "You could use a mud bath Percy. Don't move," I said with a wicked grin.

Percy cocked his eyebrows. He clutched his chest. "I can already hear my cannon firing. Please make it quick." Our other two friends were playing dead.

I marched dramatically through the stream and stood over him. Percy splashed water on his face, looking like he'd cried a river. I looked up at the sky. "This is for my district!" I shouted. And then I glared down at Percy again, who was looking more and more pathetic. "I will be the victor of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games!" Catching Percy off guard, I dived into the mud.

Percy and I mud wrestled, hitting each other in the chest and face. Soon enough we could camouflage perfectly. Gilligan and Wade made a three-finger claw over their chests, imitating the hovercraft picking up the corpses. The small fish and shrimp fled. Times like these almost made me forget the reaping.

Of course that was impossible. And no matter how much escapism we had, the Capitol's cruel games would shake us into reality. It was noon so we had two hours until everyone had to gather in the town square for the unlucky fate of two kids. And here I was, mud wrestling with my best friends while the 74th Hunger Games was right around the corner. And if I was chosen then it would be time well spent.

"Remy!" my older sister Cynthia said. "It's all fun and games with you, isn't it?"

"Aren't they called the Hunger Games?" I asked. Cynthia was my 18 year old sister and her last year as a participant in the brutal Hunger Games. Percy envied her, as did about everyone in my class. But my fear for her and my own life doubled with each year as our name was entered more each time. After today I'd have one less life to worry about.

"You know that man who never comes out of his house? I went over to give him a plate of shrimp and I found out he's a fortune teller! Guess what happened next?" Percy opened his mouth to answer but her lips were already running. "He told me that our family would be spared during the reaping!"

"What about us?" Gilligan said.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," she said with the wave of her hand.

I looked down at the water. Like the games, I tried to snatch the small fish up. In their eyes, it was probably cruel. But in my mind it was just an afterthought. The same was for the Capitol. They took lives like mowing the lawn. A routine of killing the grass and coming back when there's more. We were the grass.

I got to my feet and wiped the mud off my clothes. "I wanna talk to this guy," I said. They all looked at me. "Some shut-in is spreading false hope at a time like this. Next thing you know he's gonna say there's a rebellion against the Capitol. I wanna give this guy a piece of my mind."

"It's no big deal Remy. He didn't charge or anything. It was just a harmless prediction. And he's probably right."

I didn't hear it. I was already trekking out of the marshland.

The smell of fish drifted around the district. Of course families were having a very special lunch. They had to make sure their family was together just in case it was the last time.

I visited my house first. My mother was sitting on the couch in front of the television, practicing for when the games were on. The way she sat screamed stressed. The way she would be if Cynthia or myself (or us both) were battling it out in some outdoors arena. The odds of both of us being in the games were slim to none. Yet my mind kept returning to the subject, reminding myself of how that could _not _happen.

I snuck past her and went to the bathroom door. Running water was coming from inside. My father was taking a shower. So I just went into my room, took off the filthy clothes, wiped my body with a towel, and put on some fresh clothes. Thank goodness the fish scent was still heavy in the air.

I knew the man Cynthia was talking about. Of course he attended the annual reaping. And I saw him one day catching catfish. He wasn't old like everyone claimed he was. The man was probably forty or so. But he definitely carried the look of a tired, lifeless nobody.

Knocking on the door, it took a minute for him to open the door. When he did, I was speechless. His present state was much worse than before. The bags under his eyes had grandchildren and his face was hauntingly defined. District 4 was known for having attractive features. We were different. That's why the Marsh felt like its' own district.

"You missed your sister. She was just here," he said.

"That's why I'm here. Can I come in?"

He backed away from the doorway, allowing me entrance. The interior of his house was bare and cold. It wasn't just the reaping atmosphere. There was only a wooden rocking chair and a TV. Of course the Capitol had to provide the fellow districts with access to the ever-so-loved Hunger Games. But there were no lamps or tables. Boy this was depressing. I was already feeling guilty for coming over here with the intention to tell him off.

"What can I do for you?" he asked.

In a normal house he would've offered me a seat. But I would've felt bad taking his only chair. "Cynthia tells me you do predictions now."

He looked amused. "It was more of hopeful advice. She looked worried about you."

"Had her fooled," I said. "What's your name?"

He didn't seem offended by my rudeness. "Sheldon," he replied. At least I had a name for him. "Do you feel confident with this year's Hunger Games?"

"I don't hope to be reaped," was all I could say. One of the attributes of being a Career Tribute was volunteering for the games. The people in the Marsh had more sense. And sometimes I thought it paid off. We were a small population of the district but it was rare that we ever got reaped. And it was even less likely that no one would volunteer to take our place. Maybe the Capitol rigged our bowl, making sure the healthy, strong, and clean take the death sentence. Heck, they could have it.

"Could you win if you did?" Sheldon said.

"I'm not buff like the other guys. I wouldn't bet on myself." Like about everyone in District 4, I could swim. And I'd learned how to hold my breath for 3 and a half minutes during contests with my friends. Those weren't very reliable survival skills.

The man's eyes lit up and he dashed around a corner. When he came out, he was moving around a golden object in his body fingers. I took it and prodded it with my mud-caked fingernail. I'd never seen something like this. It was a salamander in the center and its' tail was connected to the ring surrounding it. It had a pin to attach to a shirt. Surprisingly, it seemed in good condition.

"What's this for?"

"Adapt to survive. A salamander can live in the worlds of land and water. They started in water but they adapted and made it to the land. And so can us. We can start somewhere and end up totally different without truly losing our roots. Will you hold on to this?"

I clasped the pin and gently put it in my pocket. Did Sheldon think I was going into the games? He seemed so sure I was going to die. I patted my side where the golden salamander sat.

"I'll see you at the reaping," I said and left his house.

Returning back to the house, my parents and Cynthia were waiting for me. They were all dressed formally but me. My sister was even tapping her foot. "Shut up," I told her and retreated upstairs to get cleaned.

After washing up, I put on a white shirt tucked in a pair of dark pants. And after getting my shoes on, it was almost 2 o'clock. Before we left out, we stood in a square formation, all giving each other looks of love and appreciation. This was something the Hunger Games threatened to take away. But they never could.

Arriving at the town square, I already felt like I was in the arena. The cameras were capturing every face, every tear. Cynthia and I split up from our parents. They waved at us and whispered good luck.

"We're gonna be alright," Cynthia said. "What will make this year any different?"

I was too nervous to wear the pin so it just sat in my pocket. Right now it weighed a ton. My eyes darted over the fear-stricken faces for the hollow face of Sheldon. It's not like you had a choice to show up or not. Unless you were on the verge of death, you had to attend. And if you didn't, there was a prison waiting for you.

Eventually we arrived at the potential tributes. And now it was time to split to our own age groups. Cynthia kissed me on the cheek and just when she pulled away did I realize that she was holding my hand. And a part of me (a _very _small part) didn't want to let go. Once I found Percy and the other guys, I was comfortable again.

The boys from the richer parts pushed and shoved us aside as they went to get a good look at the stage. The mayor was there, along with District 4's escort Pearl Harbor. She was a very prude woman with a bad sense of humor and a worse sense of fashion. Her dress was purple and had strips of cloth that were supposed to resemble octopus legs. The sea witch was making us Swamp People look normal.

In another chair was our district idol and famed victor Finnick Odair. He was a heartthrob for the ladies. Luckily for him, he was usually at the Capitol so his fans couldn't peep in his house in the Victor's Village. Finnick represented all what was wrong with the majority of District 4: vain and a big ego. But his sharp looks were enough for people to ignore his faults.

The mayor got up to the podium right when the clock struck 2. He cleared his throat and ran through the normal introduction. And then the sea witch took his place.

"Happy Hunger Games to you all. Once again I am proud to be the escort for the gorgeous District 4." But the way her voice came out like she was suffering from chronic depression didn't make her words very believable. Unfortunately she continued. "I won't leave you anticipating any longer. Let's start with the ladies."

Finnick gave a wave to the crowd. I thought I saw a girl faint. Making girls sweaty idiots was probably a good perk.

Pearl's manicured fingers reached into the girl reaping ball. She turned her hand in the paper like a washing machine to build the tension. And finally they hooked on a single sheet of paper. Our escort slowly walked back to the microphone and opened the paper.

_Just like any other year, _I repeated in my head.

"Destiny Sanders," Pearl announced. My lungs released all the air they could contain. Cynthia was safe and sound, never again to fear the wrath of the Hunger Games. I would never tell her but now I was jealous.

Percy patted me on the shoulder. I wasn't even looking for Destiny. I was too busy searching for Cynthia. The whole group of 18 year old girls were giggling and waving at their family, telling them they were safe. And finally I found Sheldon. My fingers instinctively gripped my salamander pin. He mouthed a word: adapt.

The sound of Pearl's clearing throat grabbed my attention again. But before I could turn around, a name was already called. It was Remy Dubois, _my name. _


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

I didn't have to look back to see that Cynthia's fear had tripled in intensity. My mother was probably crying in my father's chest right now. Percy, Gilligan, and Wade all looked at me with shock. They wanted to say something or volunteer even. Fear itself kept their lips sealed. But I wasn't an idiot. There was no one going to save me.

"Remy Dubois," Pearl said impatiently. When her eyes sat on me, she knew I was the tribute. No one carried that look of fear. "Come on. Don't be shy." People started making a way for me. I held my head up and walked through the crowd and on the stage.

I looked at the other player in the game: Destiny. She looked about my age or a bit older. We both looked at each other like complete strangers. From her tan skin to her bronze-colored locks, I knew this girl had never lived in the Marsh. Finnick got out of his chair and was standing between us. He didn't say anything but he did smile. But it didn't faze me. I was just feeling numb.

My kind kept recalling the past years when someone would get reaped and someone volunteered instantly. But today wasn't like the other reaping days. This was the 74th Hunger Games, my cause of death.

Just when Pearl was going to ask for any volunteers, a chuckle erupted in the crowd. The chuckle then broke into a full-blown laugh. How could anyone laugh at our situation? I could only see the Capitol doing that. But it was the weary shut-in Sheldon.

An impulse to attack had me running for the man. I was prepared to jump off the stage but Finnick grabbed the back of my shirt. He wrapped his muscular arms around me and I knew I couldn't escape him. The mayor took the podium to get things under control. Pearl was standing to the side, looking like she wanted to turn him into a fish.

"I give you District four's tributes for the 74th Hunger Games! Destiny Sanders and Remy Dubois," he said. From the sound of his voice, I guessed it was supposed to be a compliment. It didn't help in the least.

Finnick finally let me go and motioned for us to shake hands. To my surprise, Destiny outstretched her hand eagerly. I gave her a perplexed look. Kindness tended to rub me the wrong way when it came to strangers. They didn't know me so why feel guilty if they were mean? But since I was going to be in an arena with people having every intention to chop my head off, I better accept friendship and not reject it.

The anthem played and then we were escorted by Peacekeepers into the Justice Building. Destiny and I were put in different rooms. The room was really classy and thankfully didn't smell like seafood. But with me leaving home I should probably hold on to it.

The door opened and my family came in. My parents embraced me with so much strength that I was feeling lightheaded. We stood in silence for a few seconds. And then we remembered that we had a time limit.

Dad reached in his shirt and pulled out a necklace with an alligator tooth on it. "You can have one token in the arena. Take this."

I thought about the salamander pin in my pocket. Was that supposed to be my token for the games? "You know I can't. The tooth will be viewed as a weapon and will be confiscated. I can't take it," I said.

He gripped the armrest on the couch. The games were still in the way. "We understand. You don't need it though. You can win," my mother said.

That was a lie. Like I said, I didn't have any expert survival skills. Unless I was given a survival guide in the arena, the odds weren't gonna be in my favor. But I just nodded. My mind refused to believe it though. "No matter what happens, I'm trying for you."

Mom broke down and Dad held her close. They moved to the side so Cynthia could approach me. She looked at the velvet couch and tried to form the right words.

"I guess he was wrong," she finally said. How was that for irony?

"Cynthia, don't cry. I'm still here."

"Not for long," she said in a fading voice. Cynthia wiped her eyes but her lips were shaking as she tried to continue. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry. Just make sure everyone is safe. That includes Percy and the others. Can you do one more thing for me?" Cynthia nodded. "Kill Sheldon for me."

"Who's Sheldon?"

"The guy who laughed," I replied.

A fire glowed in Cynthia's eyes and I knew she was actually considering it. "I'll work on making it an accident."

The doors burst open and the Peacekeepers were coming to retrieve them. Our time was up. I knew my dad wanted to fight and get me out of here. But who knew what the Capitol would do my family then. And then the doors were closed.

I threw myself on the couch but kept my tears in. And then Percy, Gilligan, and Wade were tumbling through the doors. We got in a huddle and you could cut a knife through the friendship between us. It was like we were conjuring a swarm of memories and mud wrestles and alligator fighting. These were my people, my Swamp People.

"Do you have a strategy?" Percy asked.

I shook my head. "I'm just preparing myself for death. It's depressing."

"Join the pack of Careers. You'll be safer that way," Wade said.

"No, I'm not going to be friends with those spoiled brats. I'd rather play the games with the less impressive districts. At least they've got integrity," I said. And the way they rarely won, they'd probably welcome an ally from District 4.

"Just win," Percy said bluntly. "I'll be waiting for a wrestling match when you get back."

"And you would live in the Victor's Village with Finnick!" Gilligan said in a soft girly voice. He even simulated the girl fainting at the reaping. And we all laughed.

Once again the Peacekeepers arrived to clear the room. I shook Percy's hand, knowing that it would be the last time I did. Gilligan and Wade gave me thumbs-up before they left out the door. That was it, my goodbyes to my friends and family. There had to be one more visitor for me. And to my surprise, when the doors opened, it was to escort me to the car to get to the train station. Sheldon the shut-in was probably cleaning his TV screen at this moment, anticipating my death in the games.

We arrived at the train station to find reporters all around. I caught Destiny's eye and she looked bored, depressed even. Perhaps she didn't have any family to say goodbye to. Maybe that was why she was being friendly to me. She had no one else to give it to.

The train was one from the Capitol and had the nerve to be even classier than the Justice Building. The second I got in my own room, I went to find some new clothes. The fish-scented clothing was making me homesick. I found a black shirt and pants to wear. I was just in time too. Someone was knocking at my door.

"It's me," Finnick said. I instinctively rolled my eyes. "I'd like if you join Destiny and I in the dining room. I'd like to discuss-"

"I'll be out in a second," I interrupted. Before I left, I remembered the salamander pin. I retrieved it from my other pants and looked at the dumb thing. I should've just thrown it out the window or flushed it down the toilet. But I couldn't bring myself to do so. In a way, it kept the fire in me alive. And that fire may just help me out in the games.

After fastening it on my shirt, I left my room. I almost had to clutch the wall for support because of the speed of the Capitol train. In the dining room were Destiny and our mentor. Pearl was also there and was tapping her nails on the table. Of course talk of a battle-to-the-death match would even bore Miss Pearl Harbor.

"Please sit," Finnick invited. I took the seat across from him. "Let's get this meeting started. As you know, my name is Finnick Odair. I succeeded in winning the 65th Hunger Games. I was lucky enough to receive a trident from a sponsor."

I laughed sarcastically. "I wouldn't say lucky," I muttered.

Finnick ignored me. "Anyway, you cannot rely entirely on sponsors. Sure they can help and I can pull the strings but it's you that wins them. It's your job to win their hearts. Give them their own show. While we're on the matter, do you have any strategy suggestions?"

Destiny raised her hand. "It may be obvious but joining the Career Tributes is always an option. And will certainly keep us alive. They always gain control of the Cornucopia so that includes food, shelter, and protection."

"It's a luxury for a short time. Especially if they deem you too weak, they'll off you then to save the time. And you must be wary that as the games go on, the more primal you become. Survival kicks in and deception splits the pack up. Of course if you escape before that happens, you can steal some supplies and be on your way." Destiny looked pleased with the new info.

"It doesn't work like that," I argued. "Remember that one Hunger Games where the Career hid a pool of quicksand and his pack all got sucked in. It is dirty moves like that that make it impossible to trust anyone."

Finnick and Destiny had all eyes on me. Even Pearl was interested in some conflict. "So what strategy do you propose?" he challenged.

I hadn't thought about a strategy of my own. But I didn't want to look stupid in from of my mentor. So I used the advice I was given. "Adapt to survive," I said.

Finnick ran his fingers through his bronze hair. Who knew what he was thinking of? He always came off as a bit of an airhead pretty boy to me. "It could work. Change with the surroundings." But he didn't give a clear judgment.

"So Finnick," Destiny said. "How many sponsors _can _you pull? Does their money go to the item you choose or to their desired ones? Is there a limit?"

Finnick laughed genuinely, like the questions made him seem like he was all-knowing. "You let me handle them. Just do your best to impress them at the Tribute Parade. After your stylists get you fixed up of course."

"Because that's all it is," I said. "It's about physical attraction. That seems like a pretty vain strategy."

Now Finnick looked at me with annoyance. "And it works just fine for me," he said.

I glared at him. I even eyed the sharp silverware on the table. Seeing this, Pearl whistled and people began bringing plates of food like mashed potatoes, meatloaf, baked beans, grapes, plums, soups, and salads. All that I could think of was right out in front of me.

"Let's eat away this stress," Pearl advised. She took a plain salad without dressing. It was pretty tame compared to the other extravagant food.

"Can I offer you a shrimp?" Finnick asked me, holding up a platter of shrimp and cocktail sauce. On his face was a mocking smile. He was going to the Capitol and would come back after this was over while I would die in the arena. Or maybe I was reading too much into it and making him evil. Nonetheless, I didn't take the shrimp. Not only did it remind me of home, but it also reminded me of the shrimp given to Sheldon the shut-in.


End file.
